The Chronicles of Haytham
by The Seraph-Fruitbat
Summary: The unfolding tale of an Aasimar Monk as he finds his way within the world of Greyhawk.


The sun was at its zenith over the Temple of Heironeous, god of Chivalry, Law and Valour, as the birthing screams of a woman finally gave way to the high pitched cry of a new-born child. The priests and paladins in service to the temple paused in prayer for both mother and child before raising their voices in a joyful shout when the victory bell sounded heralding life for both mother and child.

Inside the birthing room, Adilah Lightkeeper slumped back exhausted on the firm bed, her golden hair plastered to her face in a sheen of sweat. The birth of her first child had been long and hard, unusually so for one of her race. Blessed with a fragment of the celesta themselves, the Aasimar led a far richer life than that of a normal human. Even a birth was easier for the most part. But Adilah no longer felt the pain or exhaustion of the long birth. Rather she held her infant son tenderly in her arms and regarded him with a silver-eyed gaze of love and compassion. Her husband, life-mate and commander on the field of battle placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she felt a warm flow of healing energy enter her tired frame.

"He's beautiful Essam," Adilah said quietly, her voice weary yet still dulcet and musical.

"Aye Adilah," Essam Lightkeeper agreed, looking tenderly at their newborn son, his own gold eyed gaze as gentle and caring as that of his wife.

Gently and tenderly, the midwife lifted the newly born Aasimar from his mother's arms and bathed him in freshly warmed spring water as the presiding cleric of Heironeous murmured prayers of blessing and protection over the baby. Essam entwined his fingers with those of his love as they both watched the gentle ritual take place, both in quiet awe of the fragile life before them. Finally, the cleric turned to the two new parents with a radiant smile.

"What name do you, chosen of Heironeous, give to your new son?" the cleric intoned, his rich voice echoing through the small room.

"Haytham," both Essam and Adilah said in a single breath. They had chosen the name a long time ago after hearing a legend about a hawk that had sought to protect the Sun with it's life from a wasting darkness.

The cleric nodded and turned back to the midwife who gently removed the baby from the waters, and both wrapped him gently in fresh linen then handed him back to his mother. Adilah held her son close, bringing him to nurse as Essam kissed her forehead before both he and the cleric walked outside.

Essam turned his face to the sun and closed his eyes, offering a silent prayer of thankfulness to Heironeous. "Grant me the strength to be a noble and just father," he prayed, "and let me be open to the needs and desires of my child." He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and turned to gaze into the deep brown eyes of the cleric.

"Heironeous will guide your steps Essam," the cleric said solemnly, "as long as you trust in yourself, your wife and His grace."

Essam put his hand on the cleric's shoulder and squeezed gently. "I know old friend," he intoned quietly, "but fatherhood is not like training men and women for battle." He smiled wryly at the last; a smile echoed by the cleric.

"Yes Essam, and do not forget that those men and women who follow you faithfully will also aid you and Adilah in this, the greatest undertaking the two of you have ever done." The cleric clapped his hand on Essam's shoulder once more and turned, walking towards the main temple complex itself.

Essam turned to face the door where his wife and son rested, attended by the midwife, and he smiled feeling a peace flow over him. Feeling the need to protect them both at present, he took up a position of guard outside the door; his sword at the ready for the slightest hint of trouble. Part of him knew that this was one of the safest places in Grayhawk, yet it was a burning desire that coursed through him. He would have time to rest with Adilah later. Now was her time with Haytham. His son.

All in all, this was the one of the greatest days of his life. And he knew that there would be many more to follow.


End file.
